Darwinism
by Pile of Manga
Summary: The city of Domino has changed. All the focus is on keeping the small population alive, and people screw like bunnies with no strings attached. Add in the forgotten word, "love", and the whole world goes to the dogs. We have just the guy for that.
1. Prologue

Wow, yet _another_ story... this'll make 6 that are in progress -smacks self- I'll never get anything done. I got this idea a few weeks ago and have been looking to start it. Now, for the big shocker-- there are no OC's! And Seto Kaiba is merely an antagonist! This story shall star.... well, you'll have to read this (very short) prologue to find that out! Anywhoodleedoodles, I don't expect this to be as popular as some of my other stories -sheepish grin- but some reviews would be greatly appreciated. the whole story is not in the same style as the prologue, so don't let that turn you away! As it says in the genre thingy, this has humor! Thanks for reading!

****

**Darwinism**

A blazing inferno slowly rose its way over the horizon, the creatures of the night scattering from its rays to hide themselves away in caves buried deep in the darkness of the land. Those who thrive on sunlight crept out and stretched from their peaceful slumber, thankful that they had made it through another dangerous night. The animal world was moving, as was the city of Domino.

Children got up and ran to wake up their mothers, alone in their beds. Breakfast was made swiftly for them, and then they were off to school with the other little ones to learn the rules of society, and what would happen to them if they were to disobey. When the boys got old enough, they were sent away, the girls left behind to start training in proper etiquette and learning the mating process.

The males grew into men on their own, learning from very early on that those who were too weak would die alone with no offspring. For that was the way to keep from dying out—only the strongest genes could be passed down, and mating was just another every day activity. Half the mothers in Domino can't remember who the fathers of their children are, but that didn't matter—as long as their children grew up healthy and strong, their position in society was fulfilled.

There was a place for the runts; a dirty, disorderly mansion filled to the brim with the weak and sick; no heed was paid to those who passed away. Only the disfigured elderly would be gracious enough to nurse the young, knowing very well that it made no difference except to make their lives a little brighter. Sometimes the females would stay with their failures, knowing well that if the children went wrong, it was their fault.

It was a society existing only for the sake of existing. The population was controlled through strict, enforced habits that were beaten into everyone born within it, and it was the only way anyone knew. Advance, and keep your world alive; do only what's best for the whole, and we will advance towards the paradise that man has been searching for since the dawn of time.

Of course, there are always exceptions… someone big was about to hit Domino, someone who would force open the eyes of this society to see another world beyond that which they were living. That exception would discover, within himself, the power to alter the lives of the drones around him, breaking free of his shackles to shock the last remnants of the human race.

All of this, in the hands of one boy.

"'ey! Come back here and say that to my face, ya big, fat jerk!"

Joey Wheeler.


	2. Tom Grangin

Ah, I finally got the motivation to start working on this again; after getting over a rather nasty bout of the flu (compliments of my dad) I had a lot of time to think about stuff... so I started with this. Woot.

**merchante**** fille—**I did :P. Be intrigued again!

**SladesDaughter****—**Yes, a PG story. I'm still me! –Other me: No, you're not! I'm me! I write nasty evil plots that make people cringe or want to read more sex and blood and gore! Me me: Umm...that's _part _of me... but this one's primarily based on a weird society in the future—it was about time I wrote something science fiction-like... maybe I should change the genre thingy...

**kikoken****—**Indeed, it is; here is your update stuffed full of Joey goodness!

**ShibiChicken****-**...again, you never cease to amaze me with your long reviews :). And Joey is the main character of this story (just because I'm obsessed with Seto does not mean that I hate Joey...) I don't think this'll become more popular than PIC or Kiseki, mainly because it doesn't have too much to do with YGO at all... but at least it's not a shoujo story... I think boys will actually be able to enjoy this one, too XD. And email me if you want to talk, ok? I never come on, but if I can and someone asks, I come on! Anyway, you seem to be interested in this more than the others, so I hope I keep your attention :).

So, onwards with the next, significantly longer, chapter! And, as a slight... forewarning (for lack of a better word), this IS an alternate universe story, so Joey is actually rather intelligent in this one. I didn't think that a stupid guy would fit the character outline I wanted, and I didn't want to write another one centered completely around Seto (although he _is_ a major antagonist in this story). Anyway, I'm rambling. Enjoy!

**Chapter 2**

"Did ya hear me? Get ya sorry ass back here!" the loud blonde shook his fist at the back of a gangly smoker, who had just called him a monkey.

"If I did that, you'd probably wet your little whitie tighties; go put on some diapers and grow up!" He gave a loud guffaw and turned his back on the teen, taking a long drag on his cigarette before tossing it behind him.

Joey cursed and walked a bit after him, stopping at the slowly smoldering death stick on the ground. Spitting on it, his foot crushed it and smeared it upon the pavement, and he felt a little better. This was a typical day for him, after all. He knew all the local druggies in the town, misfits who had either run away from the "Runt Asylum" or chosen to live a life that was completely opposite of what was expected of them. Some had the perfect genes to pass, but chose to sleep with no one, knowing excitement was the only way to live and that the system was screwed over. Joey wasn't really one of them, but he was close.

He had been a sort of accident. His mother and father were both residents of the mansion full of sick and misshapen people, and had gone against the rules and made love while everyone was asleep. As an illegitimate, he wasn't allowed to be with them from the very beginning, though as he grew up under the care of the elderly, it was obvious that his parents had some traces of good genes somewhere in both their systems.

Heavily-primped girls would stare at him as he walked past, their teachings in school telling them that he was a good male to save themselves for. If one dared approach him, however, she would be blown off just as if she were a lamp post. Not one even asked his name or how he was doing, it was all about whether they'd make a good mate for him—it pissed him off.

The blonde shoved his hands in his pockets, choosing instead to walk down the street to get something to eat. Money wasn't really a big issue for him, nor was it for anyone in the city—if you had a job, you had enough to survive. A burger place caught his eye, a rare spectacle to see in an age when everyone watched what they ate out of fear of becoming obese and ostracized. It sold good food, and the only reason it still stood was because of the large amount of healthy, alternative dishes they prepared. Joey's metabolism was fast, so he could eat as much as he wanted without gaining any weight.

Walking in, he cast a wary eye over the females talking amongst themselves, as well as the males that were sure to be territorial if they caught him looking at their mates. A seat at the bar was open, and he plopped himself down on the seat, resting his chin upon his hand.

"What'll it be, sir?" A handsome, grey-haired older man calmly walked over to him, smoothly wiping down a glass with a crisp towel.

"Gimme whatever energy drink you got back there, annnnd..." He squinted at the menu taped onto the counter in front of him. "Two a those real nice burgers ya guys make; I want everythin' on 'em."

"Right away," replied the man; he turned around and typed in the order on a touch screen with dexterous fingers, then facing the blonde now lounging at his bar. "You all alone today, young man?" he inquired.

"Yeah, don't got nobody anyway," Joey muttered, grabbing the glass he was handed and dipping a finger in, swirling the ice around. "Don't want nobody, either." He tipped the glass and drank deeply, feeling the boost run down his throat, tickling it.

"Why's that?" He put the cleaned glass down and started gently wiping his hands on the towel.

"'cause our society's screwed up; the way they treat people who don' turn out right is just messed up. I don' wanna contribute ta one like that." The drink now empty, he pushed it slightly away from him on the smooth marble. "Besides, all da girls here only want me 'cause o' my genes and nothin' else."

"Sadly, that is the truth; I don't particularly care for some of our rules, but it certainly will make a world of difference once the society is perfect." He sighed. "That's the only reason why I decided to pass mine on, was for the future when all diseases would be gone and people could live with problems that we can fix without spending money on research."

"Yeah? An' what happens when we run outta room? From what I've heard, the Dome doesn't go on forever."

"I believe the government will be intelligent enough to put a mating restriction once that happens."

Joey pursed his lips, resting his chin on his palm and tapping his fingers. "What about when we run outta room for the dead guys?"

The bartender blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Young man, have you ever seen a graveyard in our habitat?"

"I haven'... but I've read about 'em from books. What, is that weird?"

"Obviously you aren't up to date on that. The government has already realized that problem and has a way to deal with it. The dead are placed outside the Dome, and decompose fast enough to leave room for the next group—"

"What?" he interrupted. "They jus' toss 'em out like garbage?"

"Well, they obviously don't throw them in the same spot that they throw the waste—"

"Tha's not what I meant!" The blonde pressed a finger to the table. "They don' bury 'em or anything? They jus' leave 'em outside the Dome to be eaten away by dem leftover toxins?" he asked incredulously.

"To bury them would be rather risky; just opening up the Dome to the outside is dangerous, everyone knows that. But they do provide funeral service for those who want it; most people these days choose cremation, anyway." He grabbed Joey's glass and refilled it. "You seem very opinionated for someone so young; did you attend a private school?"

"Naah," he shook his head. "Didn' go ta school... my parents couldn' afford it."

"I'm impressed!" the bartender exclaimed. "No tutor or anything?"

"I jus' know what I know from goin' ta the library whenever I'm not workin'."

"That's most admirable. What's your name?"

"Joey Wheelah."

"Well, Mr. Wheeler, I'm Tom Grangin; I'm very pleased to meet you. Would you mind if I asked you to come around every now and then for some more discussions? It was nice hearing a change from the norm around here," he asked humbly, holding out a hand.

Joey was slightly taken aback. "Ah-jeez, I've nevah had someone say somthin' like that ta me before... yeah, I guess so. Don' know what I'm sayin' that's so interestin', though."

"Believe me, that fact that you question what this society has been like ever since World War III is fascinating-everyone else that comes here never discusses anything of the sort." He lowered his voice somewhat, cupping a hand around his mouth. "It's all about who saw the best genes, who has the best mate, and work. It's rather boring."

"Outta curiosity, Mistah Grangin, how many times do people usually mate?"

"Oh, I've heard anywhere between once and eight times, though I'm sure there are extreme cases. I myself mated three times." He chuckled, leaning against the rack of drinks behind him. "I must say, it's rather difficult to enjoy it, considering nearly every female has been so brainwashed that they just lay back and let you do everything."

"Doesn' sound too excitin'," Joey muttered darkly, taking another sip from the filled glass.

"Yeah, I suppose the only thing you have to look forward to is finding one that looks and smells pretty. That's one thing I can't stand around here. I want more females to actually have personalities."

"Oh, there you go, Daddy, spewing politics again."

A delicate giggle reached Joey's ears, and he turned in his seat to see a slim brunette walking towards them in an apron, a large serving tray at her side. Her pretty blue eyes sparkled as she approached, placing the tray on the edge of the counter and leaning on it to smile at Joey.

"Sorry if he's bothering you; he's always doing that," she said, half-rolling her eyes playfully at her father.

"Oh-no he wasn'-" Joey started.

"Téa, don't go embarrassing me; this time I actually found someone who thinks along some of the same lines!" the bartender ranted, gesturing with his hand.

"I'm sure, Daddy," she laughed. "What's your name?"

"Joey Wheelah," he said, turning back to his drink and taking a long sip.

"Well, let me know if he starts annoying you," Téa said, winking and going in back to collect more orders.

A plate with Joey's burgers slid down the conveyor belt connecting the kitchens to the bar, and Tom placed it in front of the blonde, folding his arms. "That's my little girl, Téa; she never lets me talk like this anymore, ever since it caused trouble a few months ago with a customer."

"Seems like she thinks a little more than mos' girls I've met."

"Well, I certainly tried to open her mind a little bit. Unfortunately, she lived with her mother for most of her life, as the rules demand, but I was contacted to take care of her when a bad virus developed in my mate, and she took ill. My daughter was tested for it, but since she came off clean, she stayed with me. I believe her mother died shortly after Téa came under my care, but..." He sighed. "My daughter wouldn't think much of it even if she knew. She nearly drove me crazy the first couple of weeks, all this stuff about 'I need to find a good mate, let me work and clean around the house'... I've driven a bit of it out of her, but since she grew up with it, it's deeply rooted in her mind now."

"Has she mated yet?" Joey asked, his mouth a bit full with one of his burgers.

"Not yet; I'm afraid she has become interested in the same male as most in here have. She's 'saving' herself for him, so to speak, since females can only mate once. Sad thing is, he probably will mate with her and most of the ones in here." Shaking his head slightly, he took up a glass again to rub the towel over it.

"Who is this guy?"

"Oh, I'm sure you've heard of him at least once-well, speak of the devil, here he is now." He waved a hand delicately at the door, which had just opened up to reveal a man so breathtaking that the entire restaurant had fallen into silence.


	3. Perfect Trio

Well! The next chapter is done! Thank you all for being so patient :). I had fun with this chapter... reviews!

**merchante**** file—**Har; Joey'll save the world one way or another. I wonder what it would be like with a bunch of little Setos running around... –starts laughing-

**AlisonWalker****—**Ah, Seto won't be horny, just very, very, very stuck up. Wait, he's like that anyway, isn't he?

**SirisAnkh****—**Well, I'm glad! I hope you keep reading!

**ShibiChicken****—**Yes, the whole Yugi gang annoys me, but I'm actually going to have a few other people in here other than Joey, Téa, and Seto. This story is already breaking away from my whole SetoxOC style, so why not go all the way? This story was original; you should know more than anyone that I hate using ideas that aren't my own... And thank you so much for the compliments :) they make me feel special. Happy anniversary!

**Stephie****—**Do your homework! But keep reading. –grin-

**Kikoken****—**Here's the update! And cool update on 'The Missing'!

**Alex aus'ri Kaiser—**You'll see who the guy is :); I hope the story will keep getting more interesting for you, as it's getting more fun to write!

**Cobra Strife—**Arigato, chica! Heh, we all would save ourselves for Seto, ne?

**ssp****—**I'm not really a sci-fi person, either, but I'm really liking this, too. Maybe I should start writing more varied stuff more often... and yay! You like Harmful Crush, too! Thanks!

**demonic angel—**Har. Sorry! Here's the update!

Alright! I gotta go now! Enjoy this next one!

**Chapter 3**

A delicate, yet firm step took him into the diner, and it caused half the males to flinch and look away at their drinks; the other half stared defiantly at him, obviously knowing that their mates were looking hungrily at him and regretting they'd already settled. His sharp gold eyes took a quick sweep of the place, and then he broke into a slight smile, displaying a row of perfect teeth.

The man wasn't alone; two others accompanied him on either side, each just as fine-tuned and perfect. Their outfits alone set them apart, dark kimonos that flowed evenly behind them as though caught up in a draft, emblazoned with a distinguished design of a dark blue that seemed to flash with its own light. Their boots clicked softly on the floor as they made their way towards the counter; once they were fully inside, some voices ventured to start up their conversations again.

Joey smelled a strong masculine scent as they came closer, and instinctively moved slightly to his left to make room for the three. The one in front folded his arms and stopped beside the blonde, staring down at the bartender, as he towered at 6'4. "If you'd be so kind, sir, we need to pick up an order that was placed about a half hour ago; 20 bentos with the Ido drinks."

"Ah yes, right away, sirs; make yourselves comfortable." Tom bowed and hurried to the back. Joey merely huffed a little and started into his food.

"Kami, I'm hungry." The first man turned and leaned his back against the counter, running a hand through his black hair.

"Wow, that's news," grumbled another.

"Damian," said the third warningly. "Don't get your boxers in a bunch; quit bein' such a baby." He sniffed lightly at the air. "I'm pretty damn hungry myself after walkin' all that way, though."

"You both know I'm too cheap to rent a Skiya," laughed the first.

"Coulda called a taxi," Joey muttered. It came out a little louder than he meant it to, and all three looked at him.

"Got a problem, punk?" Damian said, narrowing his green eyes.

"Be nice, dude." The brown-haired second man smirked at Joey. "Ya'll should know that taxis really ain't our style."

"I should know about your guys' style?" Joey asked indifferently, his main focus still on his food.

"Not that you should, just mos' people already do." He straightened the neck of his kimono importantly, flashing a peace sign. "We're the best lookin' guys around!"

"Great for yous guys." Joey was getting a bit annoyed at the flamboyance of the man. The tall one stood and stared at Joey for a moment, before grabbing his arm and hoisting him to his feet. "'ey! What the hell do ya think ya doin'! Leggo a'—" But his arm was already released.

He cringed slightly as the man's gold eyes bore into his for a moment, and he shifted uncomfortably as they lowered to look over his body in a swift sweep. "Pardon our rudeness," he said suddenly, smiling again, making Joey doubt whether he had imagined the fierce gaze. "I am Erasmus; what are you called?"

"J-Joey Wheelah," he stuttered, taken aback slightly by the formality.

"Joey," Erasmus repeated, clicking his tongue. "This fellow here—" he continued, gesturing to the hyper one with brown hair and eyes. "Is called Hieronim, and the rude one is Damian."

"Er—nice to meet yas," Joey said awkwardly, not quite knowing why they felt compelled to introduce themselves.

"And you as well; your physique is very impressive, if I do say so myself."

"'ey, man, I don' swing dat way," the blonde interjected, shaking a hand in front of him.

Erasmus gave a warm laugh, folding his arms. "I assure you, that was not my intent. I merely meant it as a compliment. You could be one of us easily, had you the will to."

"One a' you?"

"One of us!" chanted Hieronim. "One o' the highest honors a guy could ask for!"

"Heh?" Joey slurred, his mind boggled by the barrage of bantering.

"It's settled, then. I proffer that you come to our next initiation this Saturday, in the Miyazaki building downtown."

"Now wait a—"

"—At 14:00 hours, in the third courthouse," Erasmus finished. Tom came out with the ready-to-topple stack of Bento, Téa following with the large holder filled with Ido drinks; she froze when her gaze fell upon the guests. Damian reached into his pocket and drew out a silver box no bigger than his palm, while Hieronim flipped out a card and scanned it on the cashier station, signing a big, loopy signature on the touch screen.

"Hold on a sec!" Joey whined, grabbing Erasmus' attention once more. "Who the hell are yous guys?"

His golden eyes twinkled with amusement at the young man's ignorance, giving a humble bow with his arms held before him. "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Joey. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful addition."

Damian pressed a small button on his device, and Joey raised an eyebrow as it shot out an opaque web that enclosed itself around the food and drinks, disappearing seconds after. "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen? Like dat movie dat came out in da 21st century or whatevah?"

"I'm surprised you even know such a trivial piece of history," Erasmus laughed. "But we don't posses nearly the amount of power portrayed by those men. Only our genes set us apart from the rest of the world." He turned to go, smiling as he put his hands in his pockets. "I look forward to seeing you soon, Joey Wheeler."

With that, they were gone. Joey scratched his head in bemusement, staring at the door long after it slid closed with a soft ding. All three men were exceptionally handsome and tall, but they seemed just like ordinary people to him, especially Hieronim, who was obviously laid back about his appearance and vocabulary. Their names were odd, too, and he wondered vaguely if they all shared the same mother that had an exotic imagination. He was jerked back to reality when Tom spoke from behind him.

"Oh, look at you, you could heat the whole dining area with that face."

"Wha, me?" He turned around and gave a soft "oh" as he realized that Tom was addressing Téa, as her cheeks were a bright red, and she looked flustered.

"I-I'm going back to work," she stuttered, fumbling with her now empty serving tray and going in back.

Joey sat back down, watching her for a moment before turning back to Tom. "Do you know dose guys at all?" he asked.

"Of course," Tom replied, smiling. "They come in here all the time to pick up food for everyone else; I guess they're the lackeys or something."

"For dat league thing? What is it, exactly?"

"Ah, the LEG." He sighed, the smallest hint of reminiscence crossing his features. "I tried to get in once; they said I was too short, and I walked funny. I begged them over and over, but the leader is a real hard ass, and I heard that now his son's in control, and he's just as bad." He paused, and chuckled when he saw Joey raise his eyebrow. "Oh, forgive that babble. The LEG is a very small, elite group of men that have the perfect genes to pass on. You get paid for just being in there, and it's a pretty high honor if they even consider you."

"Da main guy, Earmuffs or whatevah, invited me ta come downtown to their next meetin'," Joey said, tapping his fingers on the counter.

"Now there's something you don't see every day. That's pretty big." Tom smiled. "You're going, right?"

"Ah dunno. Doesn' seem like much more dan a buncha vain guys gettin' together and braggin' about demselves."

"To be honest, I don't know what they do there; it's pretty secret," the bartender admitted.

Joey shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "So," he said, smacking his lips and turning to jerk his head at Téa. "Which one a' dose guys is she savin' herself for?"

"Any one of them, really."

"But...you said it was only one," the blonde said, tilting his head.

Tom smirked, shaking his head. "The LEG is often referred to as a single entity, as it really doesn't matter which male you get; they're all perfect."

"Dat's confusin'. Well—" he said, standing up. "I think I'm gonna get goin'. How much do I owe ya?"

"Oh don't bother," Tom said, pushing a button on the side of the counter. As the dishes disappeared, Tom took up wiping the glass again. "Just promise to come back sometime; I really enjoyed talking with you, Mr. Wheeler."

"Ehm... call me Joey. Thanks a lot."

As he made his way down the somewhat crowded street, he stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets, silently debating with himself about what he wanted to do. The day had certainly been a nice change from the ordinary, but he wasn't sure whether he wanted to take the risk of going to such a restricted group of people. He decided to sleep on it.


	4. Behind the Forced Mask

sighs-I finished the next chapter! Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be posting… anyway! Reviews, first and foremost—

**ShibiChicken—**a male hooker club…. –sniggers—that's really funny…. Actually, Joey isn't going to be bigheaded at all about being in the LEG. This is, after all, an AU. And yes, you are getting bad at predicting my fics, because Tea was blushing over the perfect trio :p.

**merchante file—**laughs- I have to admit, I feel really dumb, because when I first got that wrong review, I sat and thought about it for a really long time, thinking you were being abstract or something… so I was a bigger airhead : ). Tom'll be helping out a lot, hopefully… -grin-

**Cobra Strife**—Heh, actually I've never seen the movie. I guess I'd only watch it to see Sean Connery : ) coolest old guy ever… -coughs- And I'd never write about the old Seto… green hair and gold eyes sounds awesome, but it doesn't suit him as much as his brown hair and blue eyes… 

**FalsE FortunE—**You'll be watching this! –ducks for cover- I never wanted to be spied on! –pauses- ok, that was dumb. I'm glad this is weird and interesting for you.

**Akiko Saulii—**Seto-kun _is_ in it! And he is… he's the most perfectest man ever! And shame on you for not updating From the Heavens! I _loved_ that story! –goes to cry in a corner-

**ssp—**I have not read that story… maybe I should… though I must admit, the only sci-fi book I really like right now is the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy –grin- I'll check it out sometime. And Mokuba will not be in this story, sadly. I don't see any place for him ;p.

**kristen—**LEG does rule! Woot!

**SladesDaughter—**Tsk tsk. You miscounted. There are _four_ OC's! You forgot Tom! Finger of shame! –points- Shaaaaaaaaame! And you seem to the only one who caught the "Earmuffs" comment; that was my favorite part of the whole chapter… and you can see what he looks like now!

**demonic angel—**Way to be blunt and to the point! I'm not saying if you're right or wrong, though –wink-

Huzzah, Nothing much happens in this chapter, but it's necessary (I _hate_ that word! I've never been able to spell it right the first time, EVER!). So! For those of you who haven't looked at my profile recently, there is a link on there to what Erasmus, Hieronim, and Damian look like! Go and feast upon their hotness! (Erasmus' design was actually based off of a snare drummer I saw at an RMPA competition –sheepish smile--). I must go to bed… I have work tomorrow… gargh.

**Chapter 4**

Joey was awakened rudely by a speeding car dashing by his apartment, its tires squealing against the pavement. He shot up from his bed, startled, and toppled out in a roll of blankets and clothes.

"Damn," he muttered, rubbing the back of his head and pulling himself into a sitting position. A loud yawn escaped his lips, and he stood up groggily, feeling around for a light. A small clock read 23:34, but he wasn't going back to bed anytime soon. He pulled a dirty sock out of his shirt, tossing it aside as he opened his fridge to grab an energy drink.

Earlier he had simply flopped onto his bed and crawled under whatever was on it, including the daily piles of dirty and clean laundry he so carelessly mixed together. They were versatile, so if his leg was cold and the rest of him was warm, he could wrap a shirt around it.

Setting the drink down on his creaky table, the blonde took out a pack of cards, dealing himself a pyramid. It entertained him for hours on end to simply sit and play game after game in the silence of his housing, no matter what hour of the day. He had to work later on, but not until 14:00.

A knock made him pause a long while and slowly raise his head to peer at his door. He was used to noises throughout the building, but he was sure he had never heard that one, even during the day. Slowly standing up, he merely leaned on the table, staring into the dimly lit hallway.

Whoever it was rapped harder, scaring him. His feet moved silently across the wooden floor, his hands feeling along the wall to stable himself. He groped around, and his hand ran over a book, which he picked up and gripped tightly. His other free hand reached out to the doorknob, hovering inches away.

"Who is it?" he said through the door.

No one answered him, but slight chuckle and another loud knock did. He licked his lips, crouching slightly as he raised the book above his head. _Three… two… one!_ His hand clasped the doorknob and wrenched it open.

"Joey!"

"Whaa-a!" The blonde stumbled back, the book falling noisily out of his hand as Hieronim proudly stepped inside and shut the door behind him, grinning widely.

"Sheesh, what a dump," he said, scanning the apartment in a quick sweep.

"Wha—hang on a sec, what're ya doin' here?" Joey stood up and pointed angrily at the LEG member, trying to steady his breathing.

Hieronim turned to look at him. "I thought you coulda used somethin' fun to get to know us better. Get your shoes on, buddy."

"Ain't it a little late?" he asked, scratching his head.

"Not for the good places we know about," he said slyly.

"Um."

There was a slight pause. "Well? Come on! Ethan and Ty are waiting for us outside in the car."

"Who?"

"Ethan and Ty."

"Erm… all right…" Still slightly confused, Joey slipped his shoes on and walked out, locking his door behind him and sticking the key in his pocket. Down the hallway, a pair of bright headlights were shining through the door, making him squint. The front door was pushed open, and a cheery, familiar voice rang out.

"Joey! Nice to see you! Hop in!"

Erasmus was leaning out of an expensive car, waving to the two who had just left the apartment building. Joey frowned first at the tire streaks on the ground, then at Hieronim.

"You said dat Ethan and Ty were waiting for us; where are dose guys?"

"We're here," Erasmus replied, pointing to Damian in the passenger seat beside him.

"Wha?"

"We'll explain on the way downtown. Wanna drive, Jack?"

"Abso-damn-lutely!" Hieronim replied jovially. Erasmus climbed out of the front and motioned for Joey to get into the back, following him in and sitting down. As the car sped off, Erasmus leaned back on the leather seats and smiled at Joey.

"So."

"Yeah?"

"I'm Ethan," he said, holding out his hand. "That's Ty—" He pointed to Damian. "And that's Jack."

"Yo!" he called from the driver's seat.

"Yous guys have different names? Why?" Joey hardly even knew their odd names, and the second set was boggling his tired mind.

"Simply put, the LEG gives you a new one once you join. The Greeks were well-known for being perfectly sculpted and vain, so that's the basis for them. Plain names are not good enough, apparently," Ethan laughed.

"Dey jus' give 'em to yas? What if ya don' like it?"

"Well, you do get first choice, but if the name doesn't fit who you are, then they make you choose another."

"Ah." He shifted a little in his seat, getting more comfortable. "So, what do da names mean?"

"Erasmus means one worthy of love," Ethan said, ticking off his fingers. "Damian means tame, and he still resents that to this day, which is why he's always so grumpy."

"Watch it," came Ty's voice from in front of him.

"Lighten up!" Ethan ruffled the man's hair; he jerked his head to the side and swatted his hands away. "Anyway… Hieronim doesn't have a connotation, which—"

"It's specifically why I chose it!" Jack interjected loudly, giving a thumbs up more to the windshield than to them.

"They thought he was one of the most random people they had ever met, so they let him have it. Oh, here Jack, park; we can walk."

"Right-o!" The car screeched into a parking spot on the side of the street, throwing Joey into the car door. Rubbing his arm, he opened it up, stepping out a bit shakily with a raised eyebrow. The men were not what he suspected them to be at all; he almost wondered if they were impostors pretending just to mess around with him.

"Don't look like that," Ethan murmured, patting him on the back. He took his arm instead and led him away, Ty and Jack falling into place on either side of them. No one spoke at all, only staring straight in front of them even as countless heads turned.

They held themselves high, their kimonos still billowing out behind them though wind was nowhere to be felt; Joey started to again doubt his sanity as they nobly walked down the street, ignoring the comments that followed them like a swarm of bees. Stumbling slightly, he suddenly felt embarrassed, being escorted by such a high-class lot while he was still in the t-shirt and jeans that he'd fallen asleep in.

They approached the entrance to a fancy night club, a large bouncer standing by himself in front of the door. He stood nearly 6'7, and as Joey looked up at him, he guessed that he'd have to turn sideways at least a little bit to fit his shoulders through the doorway. "Welcome—Erasmus, Hieronim, Damian—" He bent down and lowered his glasses to narrow his eyes at Joey.

"And guest. Thank you, Ronan," Ethan said quietly; Joey felt his grip tighten on him. Ronan sized the blonde up with his eyes, much as Ethan had done earlier, before nodding and opening up the extravagant door for them, letting out a burst of bass-boosted sound.

The group stepped inside, the door throwing wind on them as it snapped shut. A long bar stood to the right, well-built people sitting all along it and conversing amongst themselves. Joey didn't see a single person who couldn't be considered LEG material, but there were only maybe two people that had the signature dark blue kimono. Jack heaved a sigh, running a hand through his hair and slouching his shoulders.

"Damn, I hate walking around in public like I got a stick up my butt. I'll get us some drinks." He went to the bar while Ethan led Joey to a room off to the side, pushing some red velvet curtains out of the way to let them through. Joey got one last glimpse of the pouf-filled main room before the mass of cloth swished over it, muffling most of the sound quite well.

"Alright, Mr. Wheeler," Ethan smiled, stretching his arms and collapsing on the couch. "Before we start, I wanted to apologize if we intimidated you at all earlier today—we have to maintain a certain level of dignity while we're out in public."

"Dis club's not public then?" Joey asked.

"Well, somewhat; technically, only good-looking people are allowed. Honestly," he laughed shaking his head. "Our society is so shallow."

The blonde nodded, interlocking his fingers as a slight pause flew past. "So… before we start what?"

"What's that?"

"You said, before we start. Why did yous guys bring me here, anyways?"

"Ah. That, my friend, is going to be one of the longest, most boring lectures you'll ever experience. That is, of course, unless we have a few drinks in our systems. Then it'll be the funniest experience of your life."

"Let's get this thing goin'!" Jack came in with the drinks and a few shots on a tray, setting it on the table between the squishy couches.

Ethan picked up a shot glass and held it up to Joey. "Drink up, Joey; you're in for a long night. We're going to tell you the rules of our group, and _exactly_ how to act if you want to make a good impression on the judge panel of the LEG on Saturday."


	5. The Interview

Konnichiwa! I am not dead! Ha ha. I had about half of this chapter done for the longest time, and I finished it. Sorry it took me so long!

**Slades Daughter—**Jack and Ethan maybe ring a bell because... um... heck if I know. I just grabbed names I thought would fit. And Joey in one of the Kimonos... maybe I'll have to draw that to show you that it would _not_ be funny, it'd be quite hot. Ha ha, I appreciate the non complaining. I hope this chapter fits your chapter requirements.

**ssp—**Well, you and everyone else seems to think Seto Kaiba will be at the head of the LEG. Is it that obvious? You and everyone else will find out. Intelligence _does_ matter, however. Society can't be stable if they have dumb people in high power, something the US has yet to figure out, ha ha.

**merchante fille—**Yeah, Jack and Ethan especially don't care for uptightness. They like living! Har. Well, you won't hear the lecture except in bits and pieces as the story progresses, because I would have bored myself to death writing it.

**Writergirl118—**Don't worry, Joey won't change if he joins –grin- he'll be with Ethan and Jack! No way can you go straight with those guys.

**SirisAnkh—**Ooh, cool, I'm happy you're enjoying it. This one has more humor in it, so have fun!

**Demonicangel—**I did rip off the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, hence the small comment from Joey right after that mentioned it was a movie from way back when. This _is_ people are ripping stuff off from all over the place :).

**Cobra Strife—**Yes... interesting names indeed. Hope you like the next chapter, buddy :p.Hopefully I will be able to update faster, now that my writing streak has picked up again. Next to be updated is Harmful Crush! Yay.

**Chapter 5**

"State your full name."

"Joseph William Wheelah." _Now... tha' firss thingy theyz gonna ask izfer yer name. Don' use any nicky names, jus say tha whoooole thing, yeah?_

"Age and birthdate."

"Seventeen, January 25, 2088." _Ah dunno why theyz assssk ya for when you was born buttah think they ask cuz they wanna know if they can clone yaz inta sheep without you knowin' or summthin... I proved dat once, ya know, didn' I Effan?_

Joey stood alone, in the middle of the large, overly decorated room; a panel of judges faced him from a long table, seven in all. He felt nervous, not because of the watchful eyes of the men, but because he had a hard time discerning the drunken babble that had been given to him as advice a few nights before.

_Be sure da stann lige you gotta porkypine stuggin yer ass!_

_An' no sudden movvvvvments cuz –hic- tha' mages you loog lige yer nervous and thhhhey **hate** that._

Joey had been snickering along with them, not truly paying attention, but enough to be able to remember. _So I can' jum' aroun' or nuthhhin? _

_No jumbin no climbin no nuffin. _Jack was on the floor, absently scratching the tip of his nose, a shot glass still in his left hand. _Ah wanded ta showem mah baggflip but they didn' lemme..._

_Thas cuz ya wera moron, Jack..._

The men shuffled their papers, some writing on them and recording—most of them, Joey noticed, were left handed. "You have no record of your birth facility, we see. You don't know?"

_Ahh jeez, ya were born inna reject house thangy? Weeeeere ganna hafta do sumfin about dat, yeah... __'eyyyyy ya know mebbe he cannn get by witit, ahmean loogatim!_

_Yah ya know Joe... yer hot... iffah were flamin' ah'd go out wit yaz innasecond!_

"Everyone knows where they came from," snapped the man in the middle; Joey jumped at his harsh tone of voice and almost wanted to run from the cold glare his blue eyes bored into him. He leaned forward and pointed a slender finger at the blonde. "You must have come from Malheur; I'm sure of it."

"How can you tell? He certainly doesn't look it, and his tests came back nearly perfect. Someone like that could not have come from the Misfits, surely."

"I already did a search on his name, and none of the registered facilities have his birth certificate—"

"The point is, Your Honor, whether or not he came from there matters not; he is obviously a very eligible candidate, with no defects in his genes."

"I won't stand for it!" the head man shouted, pounding a fist on the table. "We're not letting another one of them in!"

"Another one?" Joey asked—as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he had spoken out of turn. "—Your Honor?" he added, cringing slightly.

"That's enough, Christoph," said one to his left. "I think the council is very impressed with this man; surely you can let your biases down for once?"

"He will not join." His voice had dropped to an eerie, threatening whisper. "I won't allow it."

A slight shiver ran through the row of judges, but the one who had just spoken raised his voice again. "If we six are in unison, we override your vote."

Christoph ran a hand through his brown hair, visibly clenching his teeth. "All those in favor," he muttered out. Slowly but surely, five of the six hands went up, a man with a bushy moustache remaining with his arms completely folded. He was giving Joey a piercing stare, sizing him up.

"Who are your parents?" he asked after a length of time.

Christoph's head snapped up to stare at the man. "What kind of nonsense is that, Philander?"

Philander did not respond. He merely stared at Joey, unmoving. "I... I don't know deh names, sir... dey never told me. I only know what dey look like." He looked at the floor, hoping he hadn't royally screwed himself over in some way.

"Tell me."

"Wha?" Joey looked up again at the council.

Again, Philander did not repeat himself. Christoph frowned, visibly trying to control his impatience. "We don't have time for this."

"Bare in mind, young one, I am the only person keeping him from joining at this point," he replied, never once removing his eyes from Joey. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Christoph opened his mouth in protest, then deciding against it, choosing to instead write on the papers before him, his left hand remaining in a fist beside them.

The blonde was still searching his mind for anything that might prepare him for the correct answer to the odd question, but nothing except drunk laughing came into his mind. "Well... my dad... he was really tall an' kinda hunched ovah 'cause he had a bad back. His hair was like mine only shortah..." He sheepishly felt his head as he spoke, a slight grin spreading across his features. "His laugh was really annoyin', but my mom liked it. She 'ad long brown hair, an' she was blind... she knew 'er way aroun' though. I... don' really know much more n' dat since I wasn' allowed ta see 'em; I 'ad ta sneak aroun' to get glimpses of 'em an' stuff—" He stopped suddenly, realizing how much he'd babbled out.

"You were forbidden to see your parents?" Christoph was obviously still paying rapt attention. "Then you must be an illegitimate from Malheur! Surely we can't—"

"I vote him in," Philander cut in. Joey could have sworn that a hint of a smile was playing across his lips, but he didn't dare assume nor smile at his luck. "You must have important things to do, Christoph; do not feel obligated to stay for the naming of our new member."

"Gladly," Christoph hissed, picking up his papers. "See to it that a close eye is kept on him." He shot a look of knives at Joey. "We don't know when the primal Malheur instincts may kick in."

As the door slammed loudly behind him, the meeting continued as though nothing had disturbed them. "Do excuse him; it's quite stressful to run an elite group like this. Apparently we're all hoodlums who couldn't tell their butts from their noses, and the poor child is in charge of keeping us in line." A murmur of chuckles rang through the six remaining men, all of whom had relaxed a great deal.

"Now. You are hereby inducted into the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, as decided by the High Council. For this great honor, you will receive a new name, one you must use forthwith until your discharge. You, however, will have a say in which name you receive.

"The choices are limited in that they must relate to you in some way. Your options are Anatloe—Easterner, Xenophon—foreign voice, or Xanthe—fair hair. You may ask for a short amount of time to think it over, seeing as how one rarely gets to name oneself."

That night, Jack and Ethan threw a celebration in the same bar for him, bursting into laughter at the names. "Ahh mann what thaa hey? Themmre all pickin' on ya cuz yer different! Why I adda give 'em one or five o' theeeeze!" Jack swung absently at the couches.

"An' then they told me everythin' youzz guys told me before I went; I wuzz bored outta my mind, yeah? That Christoph guy, whattan ass he wuzz, leavin' me instead o' congratulatin' me 'n stuff..."

"Ey," Ethan raised his glass. "What name didja pick?"

"I azzked 'em to name me Xanthe, on _one _cunnndishin," Joey said proudly.

"Oh yeah, wuzzat?"

"I wanded an r on tha end uvit!"

"Hey hey." Ethan chinked his glass against Joey's. "Here's ta Xanther. Welcome to da club."


End file.
